Toot toot.
The phone hung up, leaving only a busy tone.
John held the handset and didn't have time to put it back on the base phone.
Click.
The busy signal disappeared instantly, and another line was cut directly.
"Happy birthday."
A somewhat pretentious voice came over.
It's Tommy.
John hasn't figured out how to chat with him yet, so ask him how he is doing at Tokyo recently.
Tommy spoke first.
"My game is about to start, that's it, happy birthday."
After saying that, Tommy simply hung up the phone without giving John a chance to reply.
Toot toot.
John couldn't help laughing when he heard the busy tone again.
This guy's temper is still as bad as ever.
Before he could put down the receiver.
There was another click from the phone.
John shook his head helplessly. Could these guys have lined up and calculated the time to call him?
"John brother! Happy birthday!"
A lively and energetic female voice came over.
It's Annie.
Sure enough, no matter how dazzling the Starlight painter is outside, no matter how much airs he holds in front of those celebrities, in front of his family, Annie will always be the little girl chasing Buddy on Lawn.
"Thank you, Annie."
John's voice softened unconsciously.
"I miss you so much, brother John, and Lynn Director."
Annie said with a hint of emotion in his voice, "I really hope we can meet soon."
"Wait a little longer."
John held the receiver and looked out the window.
"When I'm done with my work here, I'll bring you all back, and we'll go back to Long Island."
"Okay, okay! It's a deal!"
Annie happily agreed and was about to hang up the phone, but was interrupted.
"Please, Microwave Girl! Please let me say a few words!"
It's Buddy.
"Ahem, hey, I'll say a few words... don't miss me too much."
"..."
The next one that cuts in is Kevin.
"Charlie! Hurry! Say happy birthday to brother John through the microphone!"
As soon as the call was connected, the voice of Kevin came.
Immediately afterwards, there was a sound of rolling water bubbles coming from the receiver.
"Gulu gulu..."
"Hey, John brother, did you hear that?"
Kevin laughed honestly,
"I wish you good luck every year and good luck every year! This is a blessing I learned from the local people when I went to Huaxia for inspection some time ago. How about it, please pronounce it in a standard way!"
John was so happy after listening to it.
"The pronunciation is quite standard."
John answered with a smile,
"But Kevin, your words don't seem to be very applicable to me. Today is full of dangers for me. If today happens every year, I'm afraid I will go crazy."
Kevin is so embarrassed that I don't know what to say.
After two seconds, he quickly made an excuse:
"Well... that sentence just now was said by Charlie! Yes! Charlie asked me to translate it! It was not said by me!"
After saying that, Kevin quickly hung up the phone as if he had a guilty conscience.
Listening to the fourth busy tone, John smiled and took the receiver away from his ear, preparing to put it back on the phone.
These guys are really more unreliable than the last.
But this kind of unreliability completely swept away the last trace of gloom in his heart.
At the moment John's hand was about to touch the base phone bracket.
Click.
The soft sound of connection came again from the line.
John thought that someone had left something to say, so he put the receiver back to his ear.
"Is there anything else?" John asked with a smile.
There is no sound on the phone.
John The smile on his face slowly disappeared.
He didn't hang up the phone or speak again.
The two sides were in a stalemate separated by an invisible phone line.
No one spoke.
Finally, there was a muffled sound from the phone.
This was followed by a wail of pain.
"Wdfk!"
The man's roar instantly boomed along the phone line:
"Michelangelo! You fucking hit me!?"
The background sound immediately became noisy.
Michelangelo's confident voice echoed through the receiver:
"Aren't you the most masculine person? Why did you keep mumbling for a long time without saying a word? You were holding up a phone as a wooden stake!"
Benjamin's angry curses spewed out like a barrage of cannons:
"Am I trying to organize my language? You son of a bitch!"
Michelangelo didn't accept this idea at all and retorted:
"Are you a bitch?"
There was a gasp from the other end of the phone, mixed with the uncontrollable laughter of several other mutated turtles.
Benjamin completely broke his guard, his violent voice made John's ears numb:
"Go, go, go! Get away from me!"
Michelangelo replied "Okay" with a smile.
Then, there was a rustling sound, and it was obvious that he took advantage of the chaos and quickly moved closer to the microphone.
"Happy birthday John brother! I also wish you a happy birthday on behalf of the other brothers!"
"Roll, roll, roll!"
Benjamin roughly grabbed the receiver back and cursed again.
The sounds of fighting in the background gradually faded away, and the receiver fell silent again.
Only the sound of Benjamin breathing heavily was left. It was obvious that the old gangster had not recovered from the embarrassing state just now, and he might even be frantically searching for words in his mind.
This time John took the initiative to break the silence.
"You don't wish me a happy birthday? Lao Deng."
The phone was stuck for two seconds.
Benjamin coughed hard, trying to regain his lost tough guy dignity.
"Little brat, we tough guys never celebrate birthdays!"
Benjamin's voice was rough, "We must be happy every day!"
Click.
Without giving John a chance to reply, Benjamin hung up the phone directly.
The beeping busy tone is still echoing.
John was just about to put the handset completely back on the base of the phone.
Jingle bell bell!
He was stunned again.
This time I really can't guess who it is.
Reggie, Tommy, Annie, Kevin, and Benjamin have all been beaten, and their families all over the world have gathered together.
Who else could it be?
Legend?
Ashley?
Impossible.
They don't even know the phone number.
Could it be Joseph that old Wizards?
Even more impossible.
John frowned, thinking about various possibilities in his mind.
He even began to wonder if some insurance salesman dialed the wrong number.
With some doubts, John put the receiver to his ear again.
"Hello?"
There was silence on the other end of the phone for a second.
Then, a gentle and somewhat smiling voice came along the phone line.
"Happy birthday, little champion."
This voice is as warm as the spring breeze.
"Lynn?"